Would You Rather: A Novel

“Get a room.”

Noah tightened his hold on Mia and leveled his gaze at Graham. “Maybe we will.”

Graham snorted and went to the kitchen, probably in search of another beer. Claire and Reagan had just left, the group having spent the evening playing Cards Against Humanity.

Mia tilted her head up a little and whispered, “How are you so good at this?”

Noah barely moved when he responded. Close as she was with his arm wrapped around her, if he so much as turned his head, their faces—their lips—would be centimeters apart. That kind of temptation might just push him over the edge. “Good at what? The game?”

“That, too. But I meant with us. Graham has no clue this isn’t real.”

He couldn’t respond without lying, and he sure as hell wouldn’t tell her the truth: that he’d taken the words Paula spoke to them several weeks ago to heart and had constantly been looking for excuses to touch her. He said nothing, and soon Graham was back in the armchair to his left. “Man, I’m glad you invited me tonight. Free beer, good times, and I scored a new place to live.”

“Yeah, are you sure about that decision?” Mia asked. “Claire’s not the easiest person to live with. She comes and goes at all hours, leaves bags of chips everywhere, and will definitely cut you if you turn the thermostat below seventy-two.”

“Seventy-two?” Graham cried. “It’s a condo, not a sauna!”

“Try telling her that.” Mia paused. “But when you do, can I watch?”

“Me too,” Noah added. Claire was feisty as hell, and he’d love to see Graham go toe-to-toe with her.

Graham waved his bottle in the air. “It’s gonna be fine. We’ll get along great. You’ll see.”

“This will be fun to watch,” Noah murmured.

Mia laughed. “Totally.”

Graham took a swig. “So what time are we heading out tomorrow, man?”

Noah eyed his friend. “You know I like to head up early. But I don’t know if you’re gonna make it. What is that, number five?”

“Dude. I’m good. I’ll finish this one and crash here, if that’s okay. I’ll be good to go by eight.”

“Here?” Mia asked.

“I probably shouldn’t drive. I’ve stayed in the guest room plenty of times,” Graham said. He looked between the two of them. “But I guess that was before you two…is that still okay?”

Mia went still against his ribs.

“Sure, that’s no problem,” Noah said. Graham had no clue this was all fake, and it needed to stay that way. He gently squeezed Mia’s arm, and she relaxed marginally.

“You sure? Mia, you don’t mind? I guess I still think of this as Noah’s bachelor pad.”

Mia’s pitch was a little higher than normal, but her voice was steady. “Of course you can stay. You’re always welcome here.”

Boy, was Noah glad they’d decided to keep all her stuff in his room. It was probably annoying for her, but she’d been good about not leaving personal things in the guest room and making the bed every morning. No one would know that’s where she’d been sleeping. That they’d never shared a bed.

Until tonight.

His stomach clenched, and he resisted the urge to drop his chin to his chest. Tonight Mia would share his bed. Sleep beside him, her soft skin inches from his, her hair spread across the pillow next to his face.

He swallowed thickly, one hundred percent unprepared for this.

Half an hour later, Noah lay in his bed, trying and failing to focus on the book in his lap. He wasn’t even sure which book he was holding.

He didn’t look at her as she slid in beside him. Her vanilla scent immediately enveloped him, and dammit, why hadn’t he gotten a king-size bed? The queen felt way too small for the two of them.

She may as well have been on top of him.

“Whatcha reading?”

She’d piled her hair on top of her head and her skin looked freshly scrubbed. She was so beautiful his chest ached.

He held up the cover.

“Is it good?”

“I don’t know,” he said without thinking.

She laughed.

“Keep it down in there,” Graham called from the next room. “And if you get it on, for the love of God, don’t let me hear you.”

Mia covered her face with her hands, her face beet red.

“No promises,” Noah yelled back.

She smacked his bicep.

“What?” He grinned, feeling a little more himself.

She smiled back, then her eyes dropped to his bare chest.

His smile faded. “Do you want me to put a shirt on?”

She shook her head.

Okay…

“How many tattoos do you have now?” she asked softly, her gaze on the wing on his chest.

“Five.”

She nodded slowly, her dark eyes connecting with his. “Will you tell me about them?”

“Which ones?”

“All of them.”

“Aren’t we supposed to be going to sleep?”

“Not according to Graham,” she quipped, and her cheeks flushed again.

He cleared his throat. “You know about this one,” he said, pointing to the one on his forearm. The mountain with the words the sun will rise and we will try again was the one he and his brother had gotten together after summiting Mt. Rainier for the first time.

“I know about most of them,” she agreed. “But I still like hearing you talk about them.” She touched the compass on his right shoulder. “Remind me when you got this one?”

He tried not to focus on the small pad of her fingertip against his skin. “That was my third. I’ve had it for a few years.”

“What does it mean?”

“Guidance and protection.”

She made a little hmm noise and his chest tightened. It was too quiet in the dim room and she was so damn close.

“The mountain was your first and this was your third. Which was your second?”

He held up his left arm, his muscles flexing as he bent his elbow to display the roman numerals on the inside of his bicep.

“Oh,” she said quietly. She definitely remembered that one.

Nathan’s birthday.

Her eyes dropped to the new one on his chest again. Before she could ask about it, Noah set his book down and flipped off the lamp next to his side of the bed. “That’s enough for tonight.”

He lay down flat on his back, his eyes on the dark ceiling. She shifted beside him, her arm brushing his as she moved.

“Good night, Noah.”

“Good night, Mia.”

When Noah woke up the next morning, he knew immediately something wasn’t right. Mia was still beside him, but she was curled up in a ball, the covers thrown off, her hands in tight fists.

“Mia?” He leapt out of bed and went to her side, crouching down by her face. “Are you okay?”

She winced. “I—I’m fine. I’m just having some pain.”

“What do you need? Medicine? Do you need to go to the doctor?”

“I took medicine a few hours ago. It hasn’t helped much. But sometimes it just takes time.”

He’d only seen her like this twice—once when she was first diagnosed and then again when she was put on the transplant list. But he’d also never lived with her, so he wasn’t sure how bad it was. “Is this normal?”

She swallowed. “No. I mean, it happens sometimes, when I have a flare. But not often.”

“What can I do?”

A tear slipped from her eye and he went rigid, his own eyes burning. His breath became shallow as a vise closed around his chest, and he stood. “I’m taking you to the emergency room.”

Her hand shot out to grab his wrist. “No, you’re going climbing today. I’ll call Claire.”

“The hell you will.” He gently pulled her hand away and leaned down to kiss the side of her head. “I’ll be right back.”

“Noah…”

He ignored her and went to the guest room, taking barely two steps inside the room.

“Graham,” he barked.

Some sort of questionable sound came from his friend’s form sprawled across the bed.

“Mia’s sick and I’m taking her to the hospital. Stay here as long as you want.”

Graham’s head popped up. “Is she okay?”

“I think so. But she’s in pain and we need to go now.”

“Want me to come?”

“No. I’ll call you later.”

In seconds Noah was back in his room, slipping on jeans and a T-shirt. He grabbed one of his own T-shirts and brought it to where Mia still lay on the bed. She hadn’t moved at all, her eyes squeezed shut.

He brushed her thick, dark hair away from her face. “Let me help you put this on.”

He helped her sit up and slid the shirt over her tank top. The shorts she had on would work.

“Can you walk?”

She nodded, but a sound of pain slipped from her throat when she straightened.

A chunk of Noah’s heart chipped away, lodging in his throat. He scooped her in his arms, cradling her close to his chest. She immediately buried her face into his shirt, and he struggled to keep himself composed.

In minutes he’d settled her in the passenger seat, her legs tucked up and her head resting against the window. He drove her to Saint Luke’s, where she’d gone the few other times she’d required hospitalization.

It took them forty-five minutes to get her back to a room, and Mia’s body curved into his side was the only thing that kept him from causing a scene at the desk, demanding a doctor to come see her.

To help her, fix this, take her pain away. Now.

As it was, he brushed his hand up and down her arm, alternating between staring at her wearing his gray CU shirt and glaring at the man in scrubs who took their information, but who clearly had no sense of urgency when it came to people who needed medical attention.

Noah didn’t breathe again until she was in a bed, an IV in her arm, and watched the pain medication take effect. Her countenance relaxed, color returned to her cheeks, and her breathing evened out.

He pulled a chair next to the bed and sat as close as possible, her hand in his.

“You’re staring,” she whispered.

He wasn’t ready to speak just yet.

“I feel better,” she continued when he didn’t respond. “I promise.”

He nodded, knowing he looked like a complete asshole just watching her, unsmiling. But nothing about this was okay. His mind had gone to a dark place in the last hour, and he couldn’t seem to follow the sound of her voice back to the light. Memories of that night, when he, Nathan, and Graham were on the side of a mountain filled his mind, and the text message he’d gotten from Claire.

They were away for Nathan’s bachelor party. Instead of a night of drinking and strippers, Nathan had said all he wanted was to get out of town and climb some rocks with his groomsmen. They’d been shooting the shit around the campfire when the text came through.

Mia had a seizure and passed out. She’s in the ICU.

Service on the mountain had been complete shit when he tried to call, and he didn’t remember much after that.

All he knew was he’d needed to get to her.

On the drive down the mountain, a deer had leapt out of the darkness in front of the car. Nathan had reacted and tried to swerve, sending them into a thick patch of trees.

Noah knew the second he looked at his brother, still strapped into the driver’s seat, that he was gone.

After dealing with his own injuries, he’d attended his brother’s funeral. Then he’d gone straight to the hospital and barely left Mia’s bedside for a week.

He’d never felt so lost. Losing his brother had been a shock, not to mention devastating. Losing both Nathan and Mia would have killed him.

Lucky for Mia, when they finally figured out what was causing her symptoms, it turned out her disease was manageable, and could even be cured with a transplant. As she improved, he’d leaned heavily on her as he dealt with the grief of losing Nathan. She did the same with him as she adjusted to life with a chronic illness.

“Noah.” Mia’s voice brought him back, and he squeezed her hand tighter. “I can’t tell if you’re playing the part of worried, doting husband, or if you’ve had a stroke.”

He huffed out a breath. “Neither. You scared me.”

“I know. I’m sorry.”

“What would have happened if I hadn’t been there?”

“Claire would have brought me. She’d sit here with me like you are right now. She’d have left the chair over in the corner, though.”

He didn’t find that funny.

“I should have come sooner,” she said. “I know it’s better to catch it early, but I just hoped the pain would pass.”

“What happens now?”

“We wait for my blood work to come back. Usually when the cysts act up like this, other things are off, too. I’ll probably need a few more medications.”

He ran his free hand through his hair. She tugged at his hand and when he looked at her, she nodded to the top of his head. He lowered it and leaned forward, and her fingers smoothed the back of his hair.

“I’ll be fine. You know that, right?”

He kept his head bowed. “That’s what I’m telling myself.”

“Trust me. I’ve been here before. A few times. I know the drill.”

He lifted his head and met her gaze. “I hate this for you.”

“I hate it for you.”

Anger flared like a bottle of whisky poured on a flame. “Don’t.”

“Why? You shouldn’t be here. You should be on your way to Clear Creek Canyon with Graham right now.” She pulled her hand away. “As a matter of fact, you should still go. There’s nothing to do now but wait.”

He didn’t reach for her hand. He didn’t move at all. “I’m not going anywhere.”

She glared at him, which was almost laughable. Mia didn’t do angry well.

Cheerful? Yes.

Welcoming? Always.

Mischievous? Definitely.

Angry? Didn’t suit her.

He lowered his voice. “What kind of husband would leave their wife while she’s in the hospital?”

She pursed her lips.

“You know I’m right,” he added.

“This is exactly why I never wanted to be married,” she muttered.

Noah straightened and pulled the ring from his finger. He held up the band between them. “You really think this is what’s keeping me here? I’d be here, with or without it. The quicker you get that through your head, the better.”

She folded her arms across her chest, careful not to pull on the IV line in her hand. They stared each other down for a long moment.

Finally, her face fell, and she dropped her arms. She closed her eyes. “I just…” she whispered.

“What?” he urged.

“I don’t want you—or anyone—to disrupt their life for me.”

“Why? Why is it so terrible to have people that care about you? Who would put your needs before their own? Most people would count it as a blessing.”

“Most people haven’t watched their parents lose their house and go into debt to pay their medical bills.” Her eyes filled with hurt. “And I’m not even their real daughter.”

It was unusual for him, but Noah spoke on behalf of her parents. “In their eyes, you are.”

She shook her head. “It doesn’t matter.” She brushed a hand across the white blanket covering her legs. “If I’d known when I was young and had time to process it before, maybe I’d see it differently. But I found out I was adopted when I was twenty-eight, Noah. And only because during the transplant workup I found out I had a completely different blood type. Do you have any idea what that felt like?”

“No.” He only knew how much it had hurt to be a bystander to her emotional turmoil.

“How could they have kept something like that from me?”

He wished he had the answers for her. “I don’t know.”

“Isn’t it my right to know where I came from?”

He thought so, but what did he know?

“Not only did they lie to me my entire life, but I ended up with a genetic condition that came from someone else, and they took the financial hit for it. I’ll never be able to repay them, or give them back the world-traveling life they wanted. I’ll carry that forever and I don’t want to add more to it.”

Nothing he said would be the right thing, so he kept silent. After her parents came clean and the initial shock wore off, Mia had responded in anger, and essentially cut herself off from them. Things had improved only marginally since.

After a few moments, Mia picked up the remote attached to her bed and turned on the television mounted in the corner of the room. Noah turned his eyes to the screen, but couldn’t have said what he was watching.

When the doctor came in, he confirmed what Mia suspected. Several values from her labs were out of range, and they wanted to admit her until they normalized. They moved her to a room on the sixth floor, and once they were alone, they argued about Noah staying. He finally gave up and left, letting her win this round.

He figured if she had enough energy to get that worked up, she was probably okay. Once he was home and settled on the couch, several popping sounds from the street caught his attention, followed by echoing booms from farther away. He’d completely forgotten it was the Fourth of July. He stood and peeled back the curtains—ones Mia had hung after declaring his house needed a more “homey” feel—and spotted the bright fireworks in the sky.

He wished he and Mia were there, sitting on a blanket, his arms around her while they watched in wonder. In reality, he stood alone in his dark house, hoping she was watching the same breathtaking show from the window of her hospital room.

Mia was discharged two days later. Noah took the day off on Monday when she came home.

She made homemade lasagna for dinner even though he told her not to. She was probably trying to make a point, but it was entirely possible she’d just missed cooking. He kept an eye on her while she moved around the kitchen—a hardship he was willing to endure—making sure she seemed steady and the color remained in her cheeks.

Damn if it wasn’t delicious. He didn’t know how he’d ever go back to frozen dinners and sandwiches when this was all over.

On Tuesday evening she had plans at a local bookstore coffee shop with her new friends from the summer school course. He suggested she reschedule for the following week, but she gave him a look and said she was fine.

“Mind if I tag along?” he asked.

She arched a brow. “Why?”

Because he still had the image of her usually smiling face devoid of color and contorted in pain burned in his brain. He wasn’t quite ready to let her out of his sight yet.

“I finished my book. I thought maybe I could browse around the store.”

After a beat she shrugged and muttered her assent, and they rode to the bookstore together in silence.

In the parking lot he took her hand, which had become second nature. The fact that she didn’t pull away told him she wasn’t too upset with his obvious ploy to remain close to her. He briefly dropped her hand when he opened the door for her, but she waited for him to follow her inside and he took it once more.

The café was in the front corner of the store, and Mia led him to a table where two women sat. One was probably in her early fifties, with graying hair and a kind smile, and the other looked closer to his and Mia’s ages.

Mia’s face lit up when she saw them. “Bridget, Anita, this is my husband, Noah.”

Noah exchanged pleasantries with them and slid his hand down to Mia’s lower back. It was well beyond keeping up the act at this point, but he couldn’t stop himself.

The smile she turned on him was the first real one he’d seen in days, and his breath seized in his lungs. She looked so happy to be there, completely in her element. Making new friends had never been his strong suit, and her warm, welcoming nature was one of his favorite things about her. Being around her was the definition of experiencing joy and light.

Without thinking, he leaned forward and kissed her forehead, letting his lips linger a second longer than necessary. “Have fun,” he murmured, and exited the café, stepping away into the shadows.